You've heard about the Monday Blues ❧✿❧ well this is Monday WRites (musing on the definition here of rite, as any customary observance or practice eg the rite of afternoon tea).
Welcome to Monday WRites #89, ❧✿❧ What's your mood like today ❧✿❧ I invite you to link in with one of your WRites

Sunday, December 25, 2016

COLLABORATING FOR CHRISTMAS
It was the day before Christmas, he was hungry, mighty hungry,
He stalked the pantry, the cupboards were empty,
He didn't want to sleep, he was too hungry for that
Guess what, no, not guest what? Guess what???

Shhhhhhhh!!!
The last festival he had eaten was, Halloween
No, not the last time he had eaten, the last festival!!!

For he was, The Eater Of Great Joy
But that, could never satisfy him.
Shudder, shudder!!!

He had heard about Santa.
He had heard about A Star.Maybe he’s the magi
who never crossed the desert.

He felt so alone, so left back.
He waddled to the window,
For he thought he heard a flash
He opened his hungry mouth to taste stardust
Then he burped, and out flew Halloween
Spinning in reverse back to October.

Miracle of miracles, he felt his body shinning
He heard angels singing
He smelt a man in a red suit offering
Milk and cookies to him

Milk and cookies!!! are these eat-ables?
Yes! answered the dear old man and vanished
With a Ho Ho Ho

A Skyflower Friday: Untitled
Kerry challenges us to choose a sculpture by Felix Gonzalez-Torres from his 'Untitled' series and write a new poem, with the same method of title. The content and style of the poem is open, but we should take our cue from "issues of identity, desire, originality, loss, the metaphor of journey"

You've heard about the Monday Blues ❧✿❧ well this is Monday WRites (musing on the definition here of rite, as any customary observance or practice eg the rite of afternoon tea).
Welcome to Monday WRites #88, ❧✿❧ What's your mood like today ❧✿❧ I invite you to link in with one of your WRites

Monday, December 12, 2016

THE BABY JESUS
There lived a maiden fair,
A maiden fair was she;
So full of grace in God's sight,
In God's sight stood she.

This grace filled maiden,
So named Mary she;
Was hailed by an angel
So named Gabriel, he.

A woman chosen,
A woman blessed;
Such was dubbed our Mary,
Hailed by the angel she.

The Son of God the Father,
That son was given she;
To bear in her maiden's womb,
That he a baby might be.

This news startled our Mary,
For no man knew she;
Yet, this grace filled maiden,
Replied so shall it be.

Then God spoke to Joseph,
A dream was given he;
Of the fair maiden Mary,
A father to that baby be.

I knew not that virgin woman,
The amazed Joseph he;
Pleaded to the heavens above,
For this so puzzled he.

He took then the maiden,
As betrothed then was he;
And on a little donkey,
Journeyed he with she.

To Judea from Galilee,
That little donkey he;
Took the two betrothed,
For such his task would be.

When to Ephrata-Bethlehem
Where all inns were filled;
There in a stable's hay,
There was made to lay;

The maiden's miraculous baby;
Jesus, Immanuel he.
Gillena Cox 2012

You've heard about the Monday Blues ❧✿❧ well this is Monday WRites (musing on the definition here of rite, as any customary observance or practice eg the rite of afternoon tea).
Welcome to Monday WRites #87, ❧✿❧ What's your mood like today ❧✿❧ I invite you to link in with one of your WRites

Sunday, December 11, 2016

THEY WALK IN THE NIGHT
I
They strolled arm in arm, happily, unhurried,
Snow and winter.
They were made for each other, folks would
Always say.
Behind them, cabin trailed, of wood sturdy
For she was all that.
A being of forest and trees, made to withstand
Inevitable change.

II
She seemed sad though, in a season of wonderland,
What could it be that she lacked?
Surely not hearth, fire, nor ice, nor stocking
Awaiting Santa.

Poetry and Flash Fiction with Magaly:
Snow Birthed Tales
Using Jenny Leslie’s photo as inspiration, to craft a new poem or story, while keeping in mind the following guidelines:
If you choose Poetry- please write 13 lines or fewer
- use one (or all) of these words: snow, cabin, ice

You've heard about the Monday Blues ❧✿❧ well this is Monday WRites (musing on the definition here of rite, as any customary observance or practice eg the rite of afternoon tea).
Welcome to Monday WRites #86, ❧✿❧ What's your mood like today ❧✿❧ I invite you to link in with one of your WRites

Friday, December 2, 2016

I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says “Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.” – Lewis Carroll

WINTER WONDROUS WARMTH
Twas such a wondrous time of sleep
Earth her blankets, white in heap
And when the night encroached on day
There lay he asleep, warm in the hay

Tuesday, November 29, 2016

If we leave creation to the hands of a child, whorls of possibilities enfold, circles and swirls which life envisions, these are lines that can sparkle spiders, to the web of nursery rhymes, where juices and jelly beans are caught in the pattern to sunlight, crafting day to day additions to shapes and flavours, all of which are necessary to definitions of play and dough.

Process Note
The Mother's hands in this poem are not mine, but those of my mother, who made for me as a child (and my other siblings) delicious fudge and sugar cakes. I cannot make these sweets even if my life depended on it, Thanks Mom for these precious little gifts of delight.

You've heard about the Monday Blues ❧✿❧ well this is Monday WRites (musing on the definition here of rite, as any customary observance or practice eg the rite of afternoon tea).
Welcome to Monday WRites #85, ❧✿❧ What's your mood like today ❧✿❧ I invite you to link in with one of your WRites